


We'll Always Have Paris

by nerdyscully (dalecooperscoffee)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Series, Reuniting, it's all in there, sort of angsty, sort of fluffy, they're in france
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalecooperscoffee/pseuds/nerdyscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki is on spring holidays from university. Kyoya is on his first business trip. They both happen to be in France, and they haven't seen each other since high school ended. NOTE: I have a few new paragraphs to chapter one, please read them before going on to chapter two!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. tamaki

**Author's Note:**

> okay a few things:  
> -this story is probably super unrealistic 'cause like. how do you just RUN INTO someone in paris lmao @ me. however this is fanfiction and a Girl Can Dream am i right ladies?  
> -this is set after the ending of the anime, not the manga!  
> -i intended on this being a oneshot but it's so long already omg?? it won't have too many chapters but still  
> -i hope you enjoy!

He was happy, he really was. University had treated him well; his last quarter was quickly approaching. He had thrown himself into his studies, so when spring holiday sneaked up on the students, he was almost surprised. The night before holidays started, he sat in the living room of his apartment, Antoinette (now much older) curled up beside him, and an idea sprung into his mind.

The next day, Tamaki Suoh was on a plane to France. He hadn’t been to his childhood home since, well, childhood. He was a little nervous, going there alone. He was alone far too often nowadays, and though he was happy nonetheless, he couldn’t help the loneliness that crept up and stayed in his apartment with him. He tried to read a book on the plane, but his mind was a hundred places at once--not uncommon for him. He couldn’t sleep either, so he settled for listening to music and stared at the clouds they passed through.

He landed in Paris, where he would stay for the rest of spring holidays, in a hotel. He didn’t want to return to the De Grantaire mansion. He wasn’t even sure if they would let him in, let alone if his heart could take it. However, Paris, as ever-changing as it was, still had the familiar hustle and bustle that he remembered from the trips he used to take with the maids and even his mother sometimes, before she became too sick to travel to big cities. It wasn’t hard to separate the Parisians from the tourists; for one, the Parisians knew where they were going and what they were doing, so they walked fast. Tourists gazed around with wide eyes and opened mouths, taking in the massive, crowded city of lights. Tamaki felt a little like a tourist himself as he took it all in, though he knew no tourist’s heart ached in such a wonderful and horrible (however that may be) way that his did.

He took a long walk, listening to tidbits of conversations he passed by, letting his ears get used to his first language again. The sun set sooner than he thought it would (thank you, jet lag) and he grabbed a cab to his hotel. The room was nice, spacious and decorative, but still, there was an emptiness. _I’m lonely,_ Tamaki had to admit to himself. It’s not that he didn’t have friends, he had made a few in university, and he kept in contact with his former host club members more or less--some were more available than others. But things were so different now. Everything was so different, and he didn’t know if he liked it or not. It wasn’t hard to fall asleep that night due to the jet lag, but the bed seemed too big. He even missed Antoinette.

* * *

Tamaki’s favorite thing about waking up in the city was hearing the shop owners open the shutters over their stores in the morning, bringing everything back to life. He ate a small breakfast, allowing himself to indulge in a bit of _pain au chocolat_ and coffee. It was an overcast day, sort of gloomy, but he slipped on a jacket and went out. He noticed that cherry blossoms were in bloom by _la Tour Eiffel,_ which he snapped a picture of, reminding himself to send it to his friends in Japan.

When afternoon approached, he found a tiny cafe that caught his interest; he could smell it down the street. When he took a seat, he noticed there were a few men in suits around, quietly conversing. Businessmen. He chuckled to himself; they were all so serious and hushed, constantly checking their phones. There was one man sitting all alone, and though there was a notebook in front of him, he was instead looking around with slight interest. He wasn’t a starstruck tourist, but he was certainly new to the city.

At a closer look, Tamaki noticed how familiar the man looked; he was bespectacled, with dark hair and eyes and…! His stomach dropped; it really couldn’t be…? He stood up suddenly from his table, making the girl at the table next to him jump. “ _Je suis désolé, mademoiselle,_ ” he apologized. She smiled politely, replying that it was alright. He approached the table gingerly; the man was scribbling something in his notebook now. Still afraid that it really couldn’t be, he began in not Japanese or French, but English, (a language they both knew) “Excuse me…?” He looked up, confused for a moment, but his expression changed to one of shock.

“Tamaki?”

“Kyoya.”

And Kyoya smiled; really smiled. Not one of his sarcastic, half-smiles, not one of his charming host smiles, but a soft, subtle curve of his lips that was nonetheless charged with emotion. Tamaki rarely saw him smile like this, and he hadn't seen him smile in person for so long...he had missed it. “Hello,” he said, softly almost. In disbelief. “Hello, Tamaki.” he slipped into his native Japanese.

“I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, a bit loudly, causing people around him to look, especially the men in suits. His cheeks reddened, and Kyoya, sighed, chuckling a little.

“Just like old times. Sit down.” he gestured to the empty seat across from him.

“How come you aren’t sitting with the rest of your…?” Tamaki looked around at the men Kyoya was obviously here with; he didn’t know what for.

“I’ve been with them non-stop for the past few days. I needed a little time alone. What are you here for?”

“It’s spring holiday. I thought I’d come home for a bit,” he smiled. A waiter came by and asked their order, apologizing for the delay in service. Tamaki, easing back into French, ordered, and Kyoya did as well, though when he spoke the language, his speech was peppered with “euh…”s  and hesitating.

Kyoya shook his head as the waiter whisked himself away. “My French isn’t as good as I’d like.”

“Better than some,” he replied. “You’re here on a business trip, right?”

“Yes. My first one, actually. Ootori Medical is looking to expand outside of Japan,” he took a sip of water. “And my father recruited me to join his more experienced employees. They’ve been...helpful, I suppose.”

“And we ran into each other,” Tamaki said, smiling widely.

Kyoya returned the smile. “We did. It’s sort of extraordinary, isn’t it?”

“It’s very extraordinary. I haven’t seen you since high school ended.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “I know. I just haven’t had the time. I wanted to make the time to see you all, but it just wasn’t...realistic.”

“I know you’re a busy man,” he said, “We’re all busy...and high school is over.”

“Yes, we can’t go back.”

“We can go forward, though, if we all put in the effort.”

“Yes, that’s true, but like you said, it’s over. We’ve all changed.”

“That doesn’t mean…”

He pushed up his glasses in his way. “Tamaki, your stubborn optimism is admirable, if irritating. I’m glad to see it hasn’t changed.”

The waiter brought their food and drinks, an _omlette avec champignon_ for Kyoya and a _croque monsieur_ for Tamaki, both with coffee. “So, what are your plans after lunch?” Tamaki asked.

“Not much; we had all our meetings in the morning, so we have some free time. They suggested we go see the Champs-Elysees.” he took a bite of his omelette, his eyes widening. “I’ll tell you, French food exceeds the hype. I see what everyone goes on about.”

“What did I tell you?” he added a few lumps of sugar to his coffee. “You like France, then?”

He nodded, looking around appreciatively. “Yes, Paris at least. I’m going to Nice at the end of the week.”

“Nice is beautiful! The beaches are the best part,” Tamaki brightened; Nice was the home of many summer vacations for him. “It’s not always rainy and gray like this. In the summer, it’s beautiful and sunny.”

Kyoya sipped his coffee. “I like rain.”

“Oh, I forgot how gloomy you are.” he said with a teasing smile. The dark haired boy chuckled. “Since you’re not doing anything this evening,” Tamaki began, “I thought, maybe we could do something? I mean, unless--”

“No, I would like that,” he nodded. “I’ve been in so many meetings that I haven’t really seen much.”

Tamaki’s lips pulled into a bright grin. “Well then,” he began. “We can go see everything we want to see!”

“Don’t get too excited,” he said, sensible as ever. “It’s already one in the afternoon.”

He flicked his hand dismissively. “That’s all the time in the world! C’mon Kyoya, please?”

“Persistent as always,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his face. “Fine. For you.”

His breath hitched just a little; those last two words made his chest stir. _For me!_ “Thank you, Kyoya!”

“As long as you don’t start shouting and hugging me and calling me your _ami,_ ” he smirked. The two old friends laughed together.

* * *

After lunch, they walked along the Seine to the _Quartier Latin._ Kyoya was intrigued by the prestigious Sorbonne University building. “You could’ve gotten into that school,” Tamaki said.

“So could’ve you.” Kyoya replied. Most of the people around them were university students like themselves, also enjoying their spring holidays. The bistros and cafes were filled with young adults.

A tiny bookshop caught their eye and they stepped in, a bell chiming as they did. The bespectacled man leafed through a book, frowning. “I can’t read French,” he admitted. “At least not well. Some of the Ootori Medical staff is so fluent, it’s surprising.”

“You’ll probably get better. Remember how bad my Japanese was?”

He chuckled. “Yes. You know, the girls found it charming.”

Their conversation was interrupted when a boy and girl who were strolling around the shop, ran into each other. They must have known each other, because they exclaimed in delight and kissed each other’s cheeks, one kiss on each cheek. “I always found that strange,” Kyoya mused.

“ _La bise?_ ”

“Is that what it’s called? Yes, whenever I see French people greet each other it’s always such a culture shock. They even do it with people they’ve just met.”

“It was normal for me,” Tamaki replied, “I remember my grandmother telling me not to dare do it.”

“And _everyone_ does it? In all parts of France?”

“Well, girls will do it, and girls and boys, and it depends where you are for boys who aren’t related to do it. I see boys do it more often nowadays. It doesn’t mean anything; it’s just to say hello and goodbye.”

Kyoya considered this, making a “hm” sound. “Interesting,” he said. “It just seems so close and personal.”

“Close and personal isn’t always a bad thing,” Tamaki nudged him. “Speaking of, you haven’t told me if you’ve met anyone special?”

“Me? Met anyone?” he laughed. “That’s a funny joke. It’s a nice idea, but even if I did find someone, I doubt my father would approve. He’s probably going to arrange my marriage, like he did for Fuyumi.”

“But...don’t you want someone who makes you truly happy?"

“Whether I'm happy or not doesn't make much of a difference.”

As soon as his friend said that, Tamaki's stomach felt like it was sinking. He thought that things had changed, that Kyoya could learn that being happy did matter, but he knew if he brought this up to him, the older boy would brush it off as sentimental tripe or something to that effect.

They soon left the bookshop--to their surprise, it was raining when they stepped outside. _“Zut,”_ Tamaki swore under his breath. Kyoya gave him a knowing smile and pulled out an umbrella from his briefcase. It was compact, but once pushed up it covered both of them generously, as long as they stayed close together. “You're never not prepared, are you?” the blonde teased.

“You've known me too long to ask that question,” Kyoya said in an equally teasing tone. “I should probably get back to my hotel soon.”

“Can I treat you to dinner first?”

“Oh, no need to treat me, I have money.”

“What?! Kyoya Ootori has money? I never would've guessed!”

He rolled his eyes. “Be quiet, you _imbécile.”_

“Ah, now, you can't win my heart with French. At least not French insults. Try harder next time.” the blonde smiled.

Kyoya pushed up his glasses. “I'll keep it in mind. Now, where are we going for dinner?”

* * *

 

“You know, I don’t care for sweets, but this cake is amazing,” the dark haired boy wiped some chocolate crumbs away from his face. “Oh, I should’ve brought this up earlier, but have you hear anything from any of our old friends lately?”

“The twins email me from time to time, and so do Mori and Honey,” he explained, stealing a bite Kyoya’s small slice of cake. He frowned, and Tamaki gave him his best innocent smile. 

“And Haruhi?”

“Oh! We talked on the phone not too long ago! She’s working really hard in law school. She emailed me a picture of her in a fancy suit,” he smiled. “She grew her hair out, and she looks very good. Not like a commoner at all.”

“I don’t suppose you said that to her? That she ‘didn’t look like a commoner’?”

“Well…”

Kyoya laughed and shook his head. “Oh, Tamaki.”

“What’s that phrase? Old habits die hard?” he got no response, just another one of Kyoya’s ‘you’re an idiot’ chuckles. “What about you? Have you heard anything?”

“Just about the same. It’s hard to make time for phone calls and letters and things of that nature.” he sipped his mineral water. “I mean, we didn’t see each other for so long.”

_ Yes, we didn’t, _ ” Tamaki bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to frown. He was trying to think of something to say in response that wouldn’t sound angry or accusatory, but he was saved when the waiter approached them with their bill.

_ “Est-ce que le service est compris? _ ” Tamaki asked; his response was a curt nod. He slipped some bills on the plate (yes, in France, they brought your bills on a plate) before Kyoya could say a word. The waiter made a comment about how quick he was and they shared a chuckle before he left with the cash.

“Tamaki,” Kyoya grumbled. 

“Oh, be quiet,” he stood up from their little table in the still-crowded restaurant. “Can I walk you back to your hotel?”

“We’ll have to take a cab from here,” Kyoya said. They stepped outside, where the sky was now completely dark--but it wasn’t hard to see, obviously. This was the city of lights, after all. The air had the chill of a spring night, the moon glowing through a few obscuring clouds. A cab wasn’t hard to catch and they soon were relaxing in the backseat of a small black car. Tamaki found himself noticing little things he hadn’t paid much mind to before, like the way Kyoya tapped his fingers on his knee to the music on the radio that was quietly playing, like the way he felt warm when their legs were pressed together. What he liked best was the way Kyoya stared out the window with pure fascination, almost like a tourist. His friend knew he didn’t allow himself to be enchanted like this often, if ever. 

“What are you looking at?”  _ Oops. _ He had caught the blonde staring. 

“Nothing,” he quickly replied. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“We have to pitch Ootori Medical to a few French businessmen and carpenters,” he said, and Tamaki could tell, judging by the look on his face, that he wasn’t entirely looking forward to it. 

“Do you like spending your spring holidays like this?” he asked. 

Kyoya looked like he was fighting not to sigh. “You like questions like that, don’t you? It doesn’t matter if I like it or not. Anyway, shouldn’t you be happy that I’m here?”

“Of course I’m happy that you’re here! I just...you look tired. Not on the outside, on the inside.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look worn down.”

He snickered. “Am I aging that fast?”

“Kyoya,” Tamaki sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ll get over it,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “That is, whatever it is you’re so concerned about. But I know by now nothing I say will stop you worrying.”

“Well, I can tell you’re working hard, is all,” he said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, who cracked one eye open and offered him a half-smile. 

“Dare I say this?” he asked, closing his eyes again. “I had a lot of fun today, Tamaki. It reminded me of all the trips we used to take back in middle school, to Kyoto and Hokkaido--wait. You wouldn’t let me go to Hokkaido.”

“Are you actually still bitter about that?”

“Maybe.” he teased. They stopped in front of a hotel that overlooked  _ la Tour Eiffel. _ “Ah, here we are.” Tamaki realized their hotels weren’t too far apart from each other. He thanked and paid the cab driver, deciding to walk the rest of the way to his hotel.

“Did it really remind of you of back then?” he asked Kyoya.

“Yes, a little, but with the roles reversed. To an extent, of course.” 

_ Will he always be so proud? _  Tamaki thought. “Oh, yes, we don’t  _ sit on the floor _ in France.” he said, then promptly cracked up at his own joke.

“God, don’t start that again,” he groaned. “Goodnight, Tamaki.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Goodnight.” Before Kyoya walked into the hotel, he asked, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll try. I’ll call you, alright?”

“Alright! Goodnight, Kyoya!”

“Goodnight, you  _ imbécile.”  _ he smiled a real, genuine smile again. Tamaki could get used to seeing him looking happy like that. 


	2. kyoya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not quite sure if anyone's reading this but here's the next chapter! there will be one or two left after this. also PLEASE go back and reread chapter 1 if you haven't already. i've added/fixed a lot of things to make this chapter flow better. thank you!!!!

Kyoya tossed and turned that night; he had more trouble falling asleep as of late. He had a brief thought that he probably had some form of insomnia, but it wasn’t much of a surprise. That, and the wheels (upon wheels upon wheels) in his head were turning far too fast to relax. That wasn’t uncommon either. He made one of his mental lists of what he had to do tomorrow--or, today, seeing as it was well past midnight--and how he had to act and what he had to wear. He wasn’t  _ stressed, _ he was just....tired. Worn down. He remembered Tamaki’s comment in the cab.  _ Damn him, _ he thought.  _ Why does he have to be so observant? _

His thoughts strayed from business; he was thinking about Tamaki now. God, he was nearly overjoyed to see his old friend again. He still felt a little guilty for not staying in touch as much as he could, and he did apologize for it, meekly, over dinner. But his friend was ever-forgiving. “I’m just happy to see you now!” he had exclaimed. His heart was still so pure, he was still full of hope, he was still...Tamaki Suoh. The Tamaki Suoh that Kyoya had been hopelessly in love with in high school--and reluctantly would admit that he still was. 

He knew in high school that he would never have the blonde. Aside from him probably being straight (though, Kyoya had his doubts every now and then), he knew he didn’t feel the same for him. He, being the resourceful third son that he was, channeled his feelings in other ways. He thought he had finally gotten over it, but the way he felt when he thought of the day’s events made it clear that he hadn’t.  _ Damn him, _ he thought again,  _ damn him and his stupid, beautiful eyes and his smile and his… _

When he woke up the next morning, he knew he had a dream, but he didn’t know what it was about. All he could remember were flashes of blonde hair.

* * *

 

He opted out of a breakfast that morning, settling for a cup of tea. He was quietly observing the older medical staff chat in Japanese, but in his other ear was a French couple who was conversing in rapid French. It reminded of him of high school again, during club meetings, when Tamaki and Renge would slip into their native French, the rest of the club staring on in confusion. 

His phone chimed and he pulled it from his pocket, smirking when he saw it was a text from Tamaki.  _ hi!!  _ he had typed, _ good luck at your meeting today :-) you will be great!! _

_ Hello, _ he typed in response.  _ Thank you, I hope I will be. What are your plans? _ He set his phone down and took a few more sips of tea before he received the next text. 

_ not sure! there is this piano shop i was thinking of going to… _

_ You still play? _ he asked.

_ of course! i don’t have a lot of time, but i try and make some!  _

Kyoya always liked when Tamaki would play piano. It made the girls swoon for sure, though he doubted it made anyone feel as strongly as he felt. “What’s wrong?” an Ootori Medical staff member, Akio, asked him, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’ve been staring into space.”

“I’m fine.” he took a gulp of his tea, now lukewarm. “Just thinking about the pitch.”

“Good idea,” Akio patted the younger man on the back, giving him a toothy and artificial smile. In the past, Kyoya would’ve been considerably excited that he impressed one of his father’s workers had complimented him, but now, it didn’t seem to matter as much anymore…

He sent a quick text to Tamaki that he had to go; they were getting in the car to drive to the meeting. He replied with a  _ okay!! see you soon, right~? _

_ Right. _

_ bye then! ~<3 _

* * *

 

“How’d it go?”

“What, I don’t even get a hello?” Kyoya sat next to his friend where they had arranged to meet, by a statue close to a long line of shops.

Tamaki rolled his eyes, smiling nevertheless. “Hello,” he began. “How did it go?”

“It went well, I believe. They seemed favorable of our pitch,” he said. “They had translators, Japanese to French, and French to Japanese. So we spoke in completely different languages the whole time.”

The blonde smirked at that. “I know how that feels.”

“Were you able to look at the piano shop?”

“Yeah, I bought some sheet music.”

“I miss hearing you play,” Kyoya admitted--then bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed.  _ What was that? _ he asked himself. He wasn’t thinking before he spoke.

“Really?”

“It was always very soothing.”

“You’re so nice today, are you feeling alright?” he teased. “Or are these your  _ real _ true colors? I thought I had you figured out.” he got up from the bench, taking Kyoya’s hand and pulling him up with him. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they began walking along, going nowhere in particular. 

“Sorry, should I say something sarcastic again?”

“Mm, no, I like nice Kyoya,” he said. “I think you’re nicer than you think.”

He wasn’t sure what Tamaki was getting at. “I don’t consider myself  _ mean.” _

“No, it’s not that,” he explained, “What I mean is, I think you’re much kinder than you think you are, what you give yourself credit for. I can’t even count all the nice things you’ve done for me and how much you helped me.”

“That’s because I care about you, idiot,” he elbowed him in the side. Tamaki laughed.

“You wouldn’t have said that five years ago.” He was right, Kyoya acknowledged, if a bit begrudgingly. “You know, I thought you hadn’t changed much, but I think you have. You’re softer.”

“Me? Soft? Funny joke.”

“Just a little! You aren’t so...tight.”

“You French phrase things in such odd ways. I was never ‘tight’ either.”

“Oh, Kyoya,” he gave him a  _ ‘really?’ _ sort of look. “You know, you’re...you’re happier, I think.”

“Maybe it’s you.”

There was a beat, and Tamaki’s face first paled, then reddened. “Me? What do I have to do with it?”

“Maybe you make me happier. I’m not sure. Anyway,” Kyoya attempted to dismiss it and thought of a subject to switch to, but he knew better when it came to Tamaki. When the boy wanted to know something, he  _ really  _ wanted to know.

“I do? Really?”

He sighed--there was no escaping this one. “Well, yes...you always have. You know that you’ve helped me. I don’t know, Tamaki; I’m not one for sappiness.”

“It’s not sappy! It’s sweet!”  _ Oh, God, please don’t start crying, _ Kyoya prayed. 

“I’m not one for sweetness, either,” he huffed. “I suppose I just find you easy to be around. Well, not always,”--he got a chuckle out of Tamaki for that--”But...I mean, I wouldn’t have stuck around for so long if I didn’t like you. If I didn’t want to.”

A wide grin pulled at Tamaki’s lips. “Kyoya!” he exclaimed. “You know, if you keep being so sweet, I might have to kiss you.”

“I’m not one of your host club clients, Tamaki, you can’t charm me,” he rolled his eyes, hoping the flush on his cheeks wasn’t too obvious.  _ Damn him! _ he thought, as he thought so often. _ The teasing bastard.  _

“So you think.”

“You’re all talk.”

Kyoya had never bought that “time stops when you kiss someone” tripe. But when Tamaki pulled him close suddenly and pressed his soft lips against Kyoya’s, on a Paris sidewalk in front of whatever deity was up there and everyone, he swore not even a second had passed. He pulled away much too soon for the dark haired boy’s taste. “You still think so?” he asked. For once, Kyoya didn’t have a smart retort or a sarcastic comment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, please comment! xoxox


	3. tamaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry this update took awhile, and that it's not very long. i'm in a musical right now and suuuuper busy. but i managed to get this done, and hopefully it's alright! sorry if there's any typos, i proofread but i'm quite sleepy. i hope you enjoy!

Tamaki received a text from Kyoya close to noon the next day.  _ You’ll never guess what happened, _ _ It’s sort of funny. _

_ i dunno, _ he replied,  _ i think i can’t be surprised by much anymore~ ^^ _

_ Dumb flirt. Our meeting for today got cancelled. _

_ you like my flirting~! why’d it get cancelled? _

_ In your dreams,  _ Kyoya responded, and Tamaki could nearly feel his smirk through the screen.  _ We were supposed to go speak with some other medical representatives today, but apparently a huge medical strike is happening in Paris. _

He laughed. The cliche was true; with the French, it was striking for something today and something else tomorrow.  _ so what are you gonna do today? _

_ We could meet up? _

An idea flitted across his mind.  _ yes! i have an idea. where do you want to meet? _

_ Oh, you having ideas is always worrying...we could meet at that cafe we first met at? _

_ sounds good~!!! see you there mon ami ~<3 _

* * *

After the kiss they shared the previous afternoon, they didn’t talk about it much. Neither boys knew what to say, and to think they spent their high school managing a host club. Still, this was different than that. This was real and tangible and so...new. Immediately after the kiss, Kyoya stammered a “I suppose not,” in response to Tamaki’s question and they went on with their day, hands still clasped. There were a few more flirty remarks than usual from Tamaki, but they didn’t mention the kiss, or kiss again, though they hesitated when saying goodnight; they both clearly wanted to. Tamaki spent most of that night mentally kicking himself for being so bashful. Him, Tamaki Suoh,  _ nervous? _

But then again, this really was different than charming high school girls. He had practice in that, but none in anything like this. His flirting skills seemed to still work in his favor, however. He had made Kyoya quite flustered throughout the day, even if he denied it had any effect on him. The blonde was proud of himself.

Tamaki considered himself a very punctual person, but in typical Kyoya fashion (he was always early for everything), the older boy was already seated at a table when Tamaki got there.  “Hi,” he greeted him, slipping into the seat across from him.

“Hello. How’d you sleep?” Kyoya took a sip of his coffee, and Tamaki wondered if he still took it with four sugars like he did in high school. 

“Really good, what about you?”

“Fine. I got to sleep in a bit. What was this idea of yours?”

“I think…” This was harder to say than he expected. “I think we should go on a date.”

Kyoya didn’t respond for a few moments. “Well,” he began. “Sure, I suppose. Can’t hurt anything, right?”’ he sounded so indifferent, but Tamaki knew that he was more interested than he let himself appear to be. Stubborn as an ox, that was Kyoya. 

He grinned. “Anywhere you want to go?”

“It’s up to you,” he replied, “You know France better than me. And I don’t need anything fancy.”

“It’s not like you to say that.”

“You know what I mean. Just don’t make a big show of it.”

“No promises,” he teased. Kyoya’s reply was simply a sigh. “I think I’ll surprise you.”

“Oh, God. Well, alright.”

“You do actually want to do this, right? If you don’t, it’s okay, you know. I won’t force you.”

“Tamaki, of course I do. I guess I just don’t know what to expect,” another sip of coffee. “But I’m willing to take the risk.” Kyoya, to the other boy’s surprise, reached across the table and took his hand, natural as can be. “Your hands are warm.” he said nonchalantly, gently rubbing his thumb along his.

“Y-yours are cold,” he stammered. Nervous again.  _ Merde. _

“They always are.”

He rubbed his thumb along the other’s. “I’ll warm them up, then.”

“Hm,” he hummed, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Can’t complain about that, I guess.”

It was so silly and perhaps he was too old to be, but Tamaki really was head-over-heels. If there were any doubts in the past, there weren’t now.

After breakfast, the two went their separate ways for a little while. Tamaki insisted that they get ready for their date separately. “I’m going to pick you up at your hotel this evening,” he said.

“I’ll be waiting for you. I can’t believe I’m letting you surprise me.”

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I’m counting on it.” Before they parted, Kyoya pulled Tamaki closer and kissed both his cheeks. His cheeks reddened and he opened his mouth to speak, but he was too surprised to do anything but stammer. “Did I do it right?” Kyoya asked. He had gotten back at the blonde for his sneaky kiss that he stole the previous day.

“Y-yes, you did,” he replied. He wanted to kiss that smug little grin off Kyoya’s face, but he decided to save that for later. They said goodbye and Tamaki found himself with nothing to do, alone again. 

* * *

Tamaki took a metro to a little town outside of Paris where the air felt much cleaner and there wasn’t so much noise. He was quite familiar with this area--he used to live here. He told himself he wasn’t going to return, but here he was. But he wasn’t going to go searching. No, he wouldn’t let himself do that. She wouldn’t be here. He didn’t know where she was, or if their mansion was still there. His mother was never too fond of the spacious house they shared. She was always musing that she wanted a tiny house, just enough for her and her son, in the country. It always confused him; he liked their mansion, and a tiny house seemed like a strange idea. He couldn’t imagine living in a cottage with limited space. “We could still have a piano, though, right?” he remembered asking, just six or seven years old.

“Yes, of course. I don’t know what I’d do without your piano music.” It bothered him that he couldn’t remember her voice as well as he once could. He remembered it’s lilting, sweet tone, but it was like a radio that wasn’t tuned to the right station--fuzzy and distant. Her face hadn’t left him, not yet, and he prayed it never would. To see her face at least once more...maybe he wouldn’t long so much that he ached sometimes anymore.

There was an open-air market full of colorful fruits and vegetables. He browsed, not intending on buying anything, but the strawberries looked so red and sweet that he put a few in a bag and payed for them. He accidentally bumped into a flash of light blonde hair and he gasped, mumbling apologies. The woman turned to face him and said softly that it was alright. She smiled, and he saw that her face was worn with age, but she was still beautiful. His heart skipped, thinking it might’ve been--but no. It wasn’t. Her eyes were a dark brown, and her nose was the wrong shape. 

He needed to leave this place, it was making him too sad and his hopes were far too high. He spent a few more hours traipsing around the little town, trying to distract himself with thoughts of his date, which lifted his spirits quite a bit. He found a bouquet at another market and decided to buy it to present it to Kyoya, who would probably have some sort of smart comment, but he knew that truly he would appreciate it, even if he  _ did _ think flowers were overly sentimental. Tamaki wished that Kyoya didn’t feel like he had to keep those walls up around him, still, after all these years, but he could see them slowly breaking down. Tamaki had felt for the older boy ever since they first met, but he was never able to put his finger on exactly what it was that he felt, but it was stronger than friendship. When he was fourteen, he found himself daydreaming in class, and he always knew he was a bit of a romantic, but when dreams of kissing his best friend flitted across his mind, he was surprised. And those dreams never really left him all throughout high school.

And here he was, in France, clutching flowers and a bag of strawberries, catching a metro back to Paris. He was getting ready for a date with Kyoya Ootori. He wondered what fourteen year old Tamaki would think if he could see into the future.

* * *

 

“Hello,” Kyoya was wearing a suit (In his hotel room. How Kyoya.), but his hair was ruffled, and a pencil was tucked behind his ear. “I didn’t know when you were coming.”

“Neither did I,” Tamaki admitted, and his date shook his head. “These are for you.” He presented them with the bouquet of roses and carnations. 

“Ah, thank you,” he brought them to his nose, and a subtle smile played at the corners of his lips. “They’re very nice. You didn’t have to, though.”

“I knew that was coming.” he said. “Of course I didn’t have to. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”

“You’re incorrigible.” 

“You’re not the only one to call me that.”

“I thought not,” he set the flowers down and brushed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what we’re doing, so I didn’t know what to wear.”

“You look nice, but I’m sure you already know that,” he slipped his hand in Kyoya’s, and he wondered how he went without the feeling of getting to hold his hand for so long. 

He squeezed it, as if he was saying ‘thank you’ through that. “So do you. You’ve got freckles.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Yes, just a few.” he reached out with his free hand to brush his thumb along his cheek. “At least five here…” Tamaki let his eyes slide closed. His thumb was on his other cheek. “Oh, and six here? Or seven?”

“I...I spent some time in the country today. It was sunny,” his voice was breathy and low. Kyoya was so close and his hand was cupping his cheek and his hands were so cold but his cheek was rapidly warming up and finally their lips were on each other’s again. It started out slow and just the tiniest bit cautious, not so sudden like the last time, but it only took a few moments for them to melt into each other. Tamaki wondered again how he went so long without the feeling of kissing Kyoya. He was  _ kissing _ Kyoya, and he was so cold, but Tamaki was warming him up. And Kyoya’s tongue was in his mouth, now, but it wasn’t too fast, it was still slow and steady. If his hair was neat and tidy, it wasn’t anymore. Tamaki had taken to threading his fingers through it. 

Kyoya pulled away for a moment to catch a breath, resting his head against the blonde’s. “I always forget,” Tamaki began. “I’m taller than you.”

The bespectacled boy frowned. “By one inch.”

“Yeah, but still taller.”

“So  _ this  _ is what you were thinking about while that was going on?”

“No, of course not,” he pulled Kyoya closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I just thought it was funny.”

“I don’t.” He kissed the side of his head. 

“That’s because you’re grumpy.”

“Be quiet.”

“Why, because you don’t like being reminded you’ll never be six foot?”

He kissed his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, one by one. “Because I want to do more of this.”

A shiver went up Tamaki’s back. “Me, too.”

They didn’t make it out of the hotel room.

* * *

“What time is it?” Tamaki asked, nuzzling his face into Kyoya’s neck.

“Almos’ midnight,” his speech was loose and almost slurred when he was tired--his voice was raspy. “You can sleep here...”

“Good, because I was gonna anyway,” he threw a leg around the other boy’s. 

“ _ Mon imbécile.”  _ he murmured. 

They hadn’t done anything besides kiss, but they certainly kissed a  _ lot _ . When Tamaki touched his lips, they felt swollen, and there were probably some marks on his neck, but he would deal with that in the morning. They were so tired by the end of it that they barely had the energy to change into sleeping clothes. But Kyoya was so warm now, and he wanted to stay in his embrace for as long as he could. “ _ Bonne nuite, mon petit chou.” _

“You did not just call me a little cabbage.”

“That’s what it literally translates to...but it’s like sweetheart or darling.”

“I’m too tired for this,” he sighed, his lips brushing the top of his head. “Good night, Tamaki.”

They were lying in bed the next morning, still half-asleep, when Kyoya said, “Sorry we never went on our date yesterday.”

“I probably should be the one to apologize,” Tamaki replied. “Then again,  _ you _ kissed me.”

“I think it was a mutual effort. Anyway, we might be able to do something today, but I have to get ready.”

“Get ready for what?”

“I have to go to Nice tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Tamaki felt his stomach drop and the corners of his lips turn down, but all he said was, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! next chapter will have a happier ending...probably. xoxo


	4. kyoya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, it is late at night so if there are any grammar/spelling mistakes in this chapter it's because i didn't proofread thoroughly enough. enjoy!

Kyoya folded his suits neatly and placed them in his suitcase, making sure everything was in order. He had his notebooks, his tablet and his phone, and a book he was reading for leisure all in a backpack, and he was to meet with the other Ohtori Medical staff members at the train station in the evening. He was leaving Paris for now; Nice was next, for a day or two, and after that, back to Japan.

He heard the shower turn off in the bathroom--once they had finally woke up, the blonde boy decided to take a shower. Kyoya cracked a half smile, realizing that he never got to find out what his surprise date was. There were certainly no complaints about the previous night from him. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind; it was Tamaki, warm and still slightly damp from his shower. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he felt his lips on his shoulder and even that made him want to melt. Jesus, he was too easily affected by this stuff.

“Packing?” Ever since Kyoya had brought up leaving for Nice, Tamaki had a different air about him. His speech was the tiniest bit quieter, and he didn’t have the enthusiastic shine in his eyes. He knew his friend (well...more than that, now.) was sad he had to leave, and he was, too. And for the first time, Kyoya didn’t know how to deal with all of this. He wasn't used to not knowing how to deal with something.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning back into Tamaki’s embrace. He needed to hold onto this feeling for as long as he could, and there wasn’t much time left. “You got my shirt damp.” he said, but he knew and the other boy knew by the soft tone of his voice that he didn’t care. They stood like that for a few silent moments, Tamaki’s lips brushing against Kyoya’s bare skin--the back of his neck, his jawline, his cheek. “What was your surprise?”

“Huh?”

“The surprise date you were going to give me.”

“Well…” Tamaki began, “It was going to be a surprise for me, too. I wasn’t quite sure what we’d do.” Kyoya turned around to see the boy smiling sheepishly. When he gave him a look, he pouted. 

“Oh, don’t make that face,” he said. He only exaggerated the pout. With a sigh, Kyoya brought him in and kissed his lips. When they pulled away, his pout had turned into a smile.  _ Kisses are quite powerful, _ he thought. “I had a good time last night regardless.”

“I hoped so.”

“Do you want to take a walk with me?”

“You don’t have to ask,” he took his hand and squeezed it, already leading him to the door. He laughed.

“Dry your hair first. It’s dripping.”

* * *

“I took the metro to this little town outside Paris yesterday,” Tamaki said.

“Oh? Didn’t you used to live somewhere like that?”

“Yes, that town, actually. Look at those roses,” he pointed to a flower shop they passed by. “The purple ones always reminded me of you.”

“The white ones always make me think of you,” he replied, “How was your visit?”

“It was alright. I don’t think I should’ve gone, it ended up making me sadder than I expected.” he shrugged. This wasn’t Tamaki. He wasn’t sad like this. Kyoya frowned. 

“You miss her?”

“My mother? Yeah. A lot.”

“You’ll see her again someday.”

“Maybe,” he sounded wistful. “I was thinking…”

“You’re always thinking.”

“You’re one to talk. About us. I was thinking about us.”

“Me, too.”

“What do you think?”

“About what? There’s a lot about us now.” That was the least eloquent and the most vague way to say it, but it was true: there was a lot about them, to them. They weren’t friends, but they weren’t boyfriends, but they weren’t friends with benefits...what then?

“Do you think we could...make something out of us?”

“No.” he replied curtly, and as soon as it flew out of his mouth, he regretted it. He felt Tamaki pull his hand away, and he immediately added, “Wait. I meant not now.”

“Because of school?”

“School and distance.”

“Japan isn’t that big, Kyoya.”

“We still live two hours apart.”

A sigh. “Can we...try?”

“Can we wait?” Tamaki didn’t reply. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I feel like it will be unnecessarily complicated. I don’t want that. I want to be with you and not worry about such things. We’ll work something out, and while we wait, we can be friends. Tamaki...you have no idea how much I’ve loved spending time with you, and how much I want to be with you. But we  can’t, not now.” There was more silence, and Kyoya worried that he might refuse to talk at all, but eventually he nodded, slowly.

“I understand. It’ll be hard,” he frowned, avoiding eye contact, “Really, really hard. But I understand what you mean. You were always the more practical one.” he attempted a small smile.

Kyoya smiled back. “Yes, that’s true. But you have the optimism. It’s unshakable. I’m still confused by it.” 

"Really, I don’t have any reason not to be.” he said. And Kyoya loved that, and he loved  _ him _ , and he wished school wasn’t an issue, he wished distance wasn’t an issue, he wished nothing was an issue so he could wake up every morning next to him and kiss him and tease him about morning breath. He wished he could have petty arguments about the way he squeezed the tube of toothpaste and what to watch on TV. He never pictured a life like that with anyone; he knew his father would probably end up arranging his marriage, and that was an entirely different issue. At least now there was something like a chance, and with the only one Kyoya had ever wanted (and he wanted him too, which he was still a little in shock about). But, he was the practical one, and as the practical one he had to say “not now”. As the practical one, he had to say, “Someday”. 

* * *

That afternoon, they distracted themselves. They went to le  _ Musee D’orsay _ , full of tourists, and Kyoya made snide comments about them, but Tamaki nudged him, after all, they were tourists, too, in a way. They found quaint little bookshops and bought cheap, cheesy postcards of  _ La Tour Eiffel. _ They had a small lunch at a cafe and Tamaki gushed about how good the food in Nice was, and how much Kyoya was going to love it, trying not to sound too sad. They stole kisses under trees, which was silly and what were they, lovesick teenagers? But Kyoya didn’t care, not that afternoon. That afternoon, all he cared about was a boy, blonde as can be with the most beautiful blue eyes, who happened to also be the best kisser.

When they got to the train station, the sheer reality of it all hit Kyoya--he might as well been hit by one of the trains, it was so forceful. It was over. He had his three amazing days with Tamaki, like something out of a romance novel that he would’ve dismissed as trite or unrealistic, and now they were over. He could see it in Tamaki, too, the realization that it was all over. “Have a good time in Nice, okay?”

“I’ll do my best. I’ll text you all about it,” Like promising to write to your friend at summer camp, he thought bitterly. He was bitter that this was over, that this couldn’t be like a trite, sappy romance novel. “You’re graduating soon; I’ll come see that, too.” 

“I love you,” Tamaki said suddenly, and after he said it, his face paled slightly, afraid.

“I love you, too,”  _ Since I was in middle school. Even was young and so mad at you because of your dumb obsession with kotatsus.  _ He pulled him in (they had made sure they were out of sight from Kyoya’s fellow staff members) and gave him a few kisses, kisses that would hopefully make up for all the lost time, all the times that he wanted to kiss him. Kisses that would make up for the time in their future where they wouldn’t be able to do this. “ _ Mon imbécile.” _

“See you soon.” Soon. Soon. He clung to that four letter word.

“You, too. Don’t do anything dumb.”

“No promises. Now, go, don’t miss your train.” One more kiss, and Kyoya was walking away, looking behind his shoulder and waving with a weak smile before he joined his coworkers and boarded the train. He began reading his book while they waited for the rest of the passengers to board. There was a lurch, and everything and at first it was slow, but then they sped up and everything was a blur. “Soon” was promising, and “soon” was just barely enough for now, but “soon” seemed much too far away. At least now, they had Paris, and they always would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this wasn't too sappy lmao. THIS ISN'T THE END! there is one more chapter! sort of like a prologue! watch for that! xoxo


	5. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole chapter is just domestic fluff...sorry. i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

“Kyoya,” Tamaki called, home from work, his voice echoing off the empty walls. The boy in question navigated his way through stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes. “When did we get a cat?” the blonde gestured to a black cat that was curled up on a counter in the kitchen of their apartment.  _ Their _ apartment, a spacious, modern one in Kyoto. Kyoya was 25--nearing on 26, and he was working his way up in the medical field. Tamaki was working for his father’s business and planning to start his own, with maybe some concert piano-playing on the side. It was a little up in the air right now.

They reunited two years after Paris. In that time, they did their best to stay in touch, but when contact began to fade, Tamaki worried that Paris was all they’d ever have, even though they were always reassuring each other that they’d get there, wherever “there” was. Still, phone conversations and texts and emails wasn’t the same. They wanted to see each other, to touch each other, and not rely on the next phone call or email.

Then one day he received a phone call, and it was Kyoya, just speaking with him as casual as can be about his idea to move in together. “I’m done with medical school, and there’s this apartment complex close to our buildings in Kyoto…” It was a surprising idea coming from him; but now it was realistic, now it was convenient. “Soon” was finally here.

Moving in was hell. Boxes on boxes on boxes. Heavy boxes. Tamaki had a bruise on his big toe from a particularly nasty stumble. But, slowly, they were making a home. And somehow a cat had joined this home, which was a surprise for the younger boy. 

“Oh, her?” Calm and collected Kyoya, as always. “I’ve always wanted a cat, but my father was allergic, and I know you miss Antoinette,” Tamaki smiled sadly--his beloved dog had finally surrendered to old age a year ago. “And, well...someone was giving away kittens for adoption close to work and I thought she was really...cute.”

His boyfriend grinned, gingerly stroking the kitten’s dark fur. “Did you give her a name?”

“Drucilla.”

“Sounds like a witch.”

“It’s a black cat, what do you expect? How was work?” he poured himself a cup of tea, sitting down on their couch. Tamaki curled up next to him. 

“Work was good. What about you?”

“Good. My father is...well. He’s still in denial about all this,” he said. “About us.” Kyoya eventually had to come clean to his father about the fact that he was gay. His father, though disapproving, accepted his son, declaring awkwardly that he was still his son despite the fact. It was better than what Kyoya expected. He still referred to Tamaki simply as Kyoya’s “friend” or “roommate”.

“That’s okay,” he said, nuzzling into his shoulder. “He’ll warm up to it eventually.”

“Maybe,” he said, disbelieving. “He’s very stubborn.”

“But so are you,” he poked his side affectionately. Kyoya gave him a Look. “I love you.” he said with an innocent smile. When he didn’t reply, he pouted, a pout his boyfriend knew well by now. It was usually solved by a kiss--and so, he solved it. 

“ _ Mon imbécile,”  _ he wrapped an arm around the blonde, who snuggled further into him. 

“I love it when you speak French,” he cooed.

Kyoya scoffed. “Despite the fact that I still can’t.”

“Pessimist,” he kissed his shoulder, something he had a tendency to do when they cuddled like this. Tamaki was obviously and outwardly a tactile person--clingy, even. And Kyoya, to the blonde’s surprise, absolutely loved it. He loved psychical affection, probably because he never had much of it before. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his boyfriend was more observant than he thought. He noticed when he melted into his end of the day hugs, when he would inch closer to him in bed. 

“Did you frame a postcard?” Kyoya snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Mm?”

“There’s a postcard on the wall,” he was doing that annoying, smug, smirk he wore so often when he thought that Tamaki was doing something dumb. “That you framed.”

“Yes, it’s from Paris! When we went there!”

Kyoya laughed, hard. “You framed a  _ postcard?! _ ”

“Well, I thought it was sweet!” He said defensively. “We probably wouldn’t be together if not for Paris.”

He was still chuckling a little. “That’s true. I just...who frames a postcard?”

“I thought it was cute!” He frowned. 

He let up with the teasing, pecking his lips. “It is cute. Just so...just very Tamaki of you, is all.”

“Yes, and Tamaki is the one you’ve decided to live with, so you have to deal with me framing postcards.”

“I think I’m okay with it. Well, I’m more than okay with it.”

“Good. I knew you didn’t give up easily.”

“Never on you,” Kyoya mumbled through a yawn, Drucilla jumping from the counter and curling up at their feet. 

“Sleepy?” Tamaki asked. 

“Just a bit.”

He ran his hand through his dark hair, coaxing his boyfriend to relax. “You can take a nap, I’ll make some dinner, alright?”

“I’ll just take a small one…” he yawned again, pulling Tamaki closer. No dinner was getting made right now, not when they were so warm and comfortable and  _ happy _ , truly happy. The blonde was content to lay next to Kyoya as he drifted off into sleep. 

He was musing internally about how nice it was to finally be together again when he heard Kyoya mumble, half asleep, “I still can’t believe you framed...a postcard.” Tamaki laughed. He was happy, he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading this story! i had a great time writing it and i hope you enjoyed reading it, too. thank you for all the nice comments! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> i really like writing about france tbh. if anyone needs any phrases translated or anything let me know okay? comments are very much appreciated xoxox


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